Split to Black

 Sometimes it's best
To let someone split you to black...
Vanta-black black...
Allow them
To see you as the villain,
And walk away...
It's an emotional survival tool
For some
To help avoid having to face
Inconvenient truths...
Who needs objective reality,
Logic, or a functional limbic system?
Right?
Being seen as a Bond villain
Can stroke one's ego,
I gotta say,
So when people give me that label,
It can be hard not to oblige...
Put on a show...
But I'm getting better at self control
As the years go by...
Work smarter, not harder...
So,
What's it like
Being on the dark side
Of black and white?
Not being responsible
For the opinions or emotional reactions
Of others,
It's a bit freeing...
Almost entertaining, at times...
I know who and what I am...
Worrying about who and what
Someone else thinks I am
Is above my pay grade...
I can't control the perceptions of others...
They may see me as they wish...
I can only control my own perception
Of the world at large,
And my own perceptions
Of self...
My identity...
Some folks don't have those...
Most don't even try to understand them...
Imagine not knowing
Who you really are...
There's a name, 
And a birth certificate, 
Even an SSI number,
But is there always a soul?
What's in a name?
Names change with a flash of a pen
And a rubber stamp...
It is not your identity...
Not your likes and dislikes...
Not your experiences...
Not your successes or your traumas...
Just a social designation
So people can keep track of you...
So that there's a name to the memory...
But even memory 
Can be fleeting...